RP: Alistair (fereldens_king) (NSFW content down the way)

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen hadn't slept well in years. Demons had tried to play their games, and when they weren't toying with him, nightmares of all the ways he'd failed Alistair all those years ago plagued him.

Figures it would take a botched grab for his own death, spurred by what he'd now been told was a false Calling, and a bizarre side-trip into the Fade to bring him a little peace.

Peace that had everything to do with the warm bulk of this impossible man beside him. Behind him? He wasn't sure as he came awake by bits and pieces. He was sprawled on his stomach, rolled there from his side in the... night? Did it count as night? He thought it might actually be darker now than it had been when they'd climbed into the bed.

And now that he was awake he could think about all the things he'd done yesterday since falling out of the Deep Roads and to this strange place that he shouldn't have.

Probably including climbing into bed with this Alistair, this strange mirror of his own Voice who he'd been aching to follow into death for years and now... He sighed raggedly, burying his face in the pillow under his head and tried to grapple with the sudden twist of loathing he felt for himself.

Comments

[fereldans_king]

Alistair made a quiet noise of protest as Daylen pulled away, but didn't try and prevent him from moving. "...No. I can't lie and say that I wouldn't try to go home. The country needs someone at it's head. And with Anora locked up, and Teagan busy running the Arlington of Redcliffe...the resulting nightmare of politics if I didn't return would be problematic to say the least." Alistair reached a hand out to Daylen, running gentle fingers tips across one shoulder and down his back.

"But I can tell you that I would ask you to come with me. No one deserves to go back to a situation like the one you described - not if there is another choice."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"You don't think appearing with a mage who followed you around like a puppy would cause any problems politically, at all." Daylen's lips twitched but he leaned toward the touch. "I could be the King's apostate mistress. How Orlesian."

Despite his glibness there were layers of yearning underneath. If Alistair actually offered such a thing... well it might not even be possible.

(OOC: phone rep, forgive typos :D )

[fereldans_king]

((OOC: no problem - that's where I was yesterday!))

"Anora walked around with Cailen following her around like a damned puppy. The advisors would just learn to deal." Alistair's voice was firm, decisive. What was the point of being King if he couldn't make at least some decisions on his own? Hadn't more than one Thedaisian ruler had some sort of magical advisor?

"They might even be happy that I was adopting more Orlesian customs. I think some of the older ambassadors and nobles weren't prepared for such a...down-to-earth ruler."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The look Daylen gave Alistair was full of warmth, fond and tender, smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. It felt strange to have hope stirring in him. Hope for anything other than death, anyway.

"First cheese for dessert, then a court enchanter... what's next? Masques? Silk stockings? Where would the madness end?" He carefully reached for Alistair's hand, brought it toward his face and kissed his knuckles lightly. "They'd say I'd bewitched you, you know. And they can be real shits about mages involved in politics. Amaranthine barely survived Anora conferring the arling to me."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair smiled fondly, the tension and stress lines disappearing slightly with the happy expression. A tiny shiver ran up his arm at the press of Daylen's lips against his knuckles.

"Is it madness to inspire change? We can always imply that I have had a religious revelation and have decided to reinterpret the Maker's command that 'Magic exists to serve man.'" Alistair paused for a moment, and then blushed faintly, muttering, "We just wouldn't announce what sort of service."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen blinked at Alistair's muttered aside and then burst into laughter, sharp and breathless, surprised at his own mirth. When he'd quieted he grinned, full grinned, cheeky, heart hurting with the affection he felt toward the man next to him.

"Well, now I'm curious. What sort of service are you imagining that we couldn't tell the court about?" He turned Alistair's hand over, dragged the tip of his nose over the center of his palm and then kissed it, this time his lips lingering just a moment longer than before.

[fereldans_king]

Another shiver of pleasure, and the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach began to return. It had dimmed due to the serious nature of the conversation, but...Daylen's touch felt too pleasant to ignore. Alistair gently took his hand back from Daylen, and cupped Daylen's cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb caressing the crest of the man's check. Still blushing faintly, he gesticulated with his other hand.

"Well, you know. Making sure I remember to wear pants, and eat something other than cheese, and distracting me from paperwork..." Alistair ducked his head, the blush creeping further down his neck. "...Kissing, perhaps." He darted a look up at Daylen, cleared his throat. "If you like, I mean."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen's smile was crooked, amused and warm as Alistair cupped his cheek and he leaned into it. His ability to resist, to remember that this was all probably going to end in tragedy and his own death, seemed to wax and wane, and right now he just wanted to give Alistair whatever he needed. His own life, it had already been bought back unforeseen and accidentally, so it didn't matter much to him beyond the cessation of pain.

But Alistair? He was important.

"So a butler, but with kissing?" he asked. "A magic butler. Magic socks that are always warm. And kissing." He quirked an eyebrow, teasing droll and honeyed as he shifted a little closer. "About like that?"

[fereldans_king]

"No! Not a butler. Does a butler do all those things? Oh, I suppose they do. But no, not a real servant! I was thinking more like..." Alistair trailed off and mumbled something that that was probably supposed to be the words "a lover."

Alistair scooted closer to Daylen as the other man leaned in. Daylen was warmth and humor and right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Alistair could see how, in a world where soulmates existed, he could have been quite willingly convinced to have stood at the side of this mage.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

There was a blush across the back of Daylen's neck, and he shivered a little at Alistair's mumble, but his smile remained and he raised a hand to rest it on the other man's side. "So I was right about the mistress thing?" His blue eyes twinkled as he walked his fingers up the ribs under his hands, just a little too soft to truly tickle, and then back down.

[fereldans_king]

"Is the title still mistress if neither one is married? Or if they are male?" Alistair's comment was a distracted, idle thought. He moved into Daylen's touch without thinking, and found himself wishing that he hadn't kept his shirt on when he had laid down.

"Would you...object to others thinking of you as such?" Alistair pulled his thought together and looked at Daylen with an expression of faint concern.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen wrinkled his nose and shrugged a shoulder. "No, I guess it probably isn't mistress with two men." He looked down at Alistair, still smiling. "Companion? Personal attendant? Lover, if you're being bold. Consort if it's all official maybe."

His fingers walked to the hem of the shirt and skimmed underneath to brush the skin at Alistair's waist, just the barest brush. "I would worry that it would make you a target for censure from the Chantry... if we... And--" He looked down flushing deeper suddenly. "It might have unintended consequences, more personally. If you..." He fumbled a little for a word that didn't include love (too presumptuous) and wasn't rude. "...bed me. Maybe."

[fereldans_king]

"If Celene and Briala can parade about in front of the whole of Val Royeaux, then I can have a consort of my choosing. And the Chantry could stand to learn a thing or two from their own Chant - 'All that the Maker has wrought is in His hand, beloved and precious to Him.' Love one another! Not quarrel over virtue." Lelianna had used that line before, to convince an angry Cousland to spare a starving thief who had made off with their stockpile of elfroot potions.

Alistair's skin jumped beneath Daylen's questing fingers, but he arched into the touch. His blush finally spread from down his neck into his shirt as he realized how...wanton he him appear to be, arching into Daylen's touches like an affectionate cat. He coughed, and asked in a slightly husky voice. "What sort of unintended consequences...?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen wasn't sure why he was surprised at Alistair's stubbornness. Good natured, sure, and the part of the fool he sometimes played disguised it, but he had a spine. A stiff, steely, proud one actually that he was taught as a boy to bend. It made sense that as king he'd learned he didn't have to, not often, and on his own terms.

His immediate use of the word consort made Daylen ache and he sighed softly, fingers still just barely skimming the skin of Alistair's waist. "That's how a bond between a mage and a Voice is usually formed. It's why the urge to be closer, to kiss and touch and taste and hold." He drew his hand back slowly. It wasn't fair to tease if this was where Alistair drew the line. "So if that is possible, then well, you see why it might not be a good idea?"

Daylen grimaced faintly because he wanted that, wanted the hole inside his heart to be full of Alistair again, and even if it didn't make any sense that it was possible, or even likely that it could happen, it didn't make it any less tempting. Which is why he told him before things moved any further forward with... whatever was arcing back and forth between them, coiling in his gut and on his skin.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair grabbed Daylen's hand before he could pull it back very far, and then looked down at their joined hands with a small look of surprise. As if he hadn't expected himself to do that. He blinked, and then looked up at Daylen's face, before very gently drawing Daylen's hand back to the hem of his shirt and his waist.

"Did I really have so much trouble accepting that a gentle," Alistair's thumb caressed Daylen's knuckles, "careful" Alistair leaned in towards Daylen, "man with such a fire and passion" and he paused to let Daylen back away if he wished "could want me, just plain Alistair?"

And Alistair leaned into press a kiss to Daylen's cheek, a soft brush of lips and stubble.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen let Alistair lead his hand, held very still as he leaned closer, eyes dipping closed as his breath feathered across Daylen's cheek. The press of his lips caused a soft, gutteral noise in his throat and then he said, normally rich, smooth voice hoarse, "Maker, Alistair, anyone, anywhere, Thedas, Fade, and void, would want you."

With a shudder, Daylen turned his face toward Alistair, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin, eyes opening, darting back and forth to try to see both of his at once. He was shaking with the effort not to close the gap between their mouths, the hand resting on Alistair's waist curling slightly, fingers digging as if trying to bring him closer with just the pressure of his fingertips.

But he had to choose, for himself, if he wanted Daylen.

[fereldans_king]

To Alistair, the moment seemed to drag on forever - he and Daylen looking into each other's eyes, breathing each other's air, yearning for the warm weight of the man in front of him to be pressed against him. And then Alistair, his voice as hoarse and wrecked as Daylen's had been, said, "Blast it all." And leaned in to kiss Daylen properly.

He was obviously trying to be gentle - just a chaste press of lips to start, infused with just the hint of his restrained desire.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen's trembling stilled the moment that Alistair's lips met his, free hand moving to curl into Alistair's hair and tug him closer. His whole being had been telling him to do this since he'd woken up to see Alistair standing over him in the closet, reach, hold, have, live.

The hand on his waist slid deeper up under his shirt, palm flat and fingers splayed over the broad muscles of Alistair's back and he scooted closer, even as his mouth stayed soft, yielding, lips stroking gently, barely even parted.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair groaned quietly as Daylen moved closer, as he felt the man's hand curl into his hair, and felt the other hand slide across his skin. Alistair's own hands found themselves on Daylen's back, pulling the man even closer - one gently tracing Daylen's spine, the other settling just at the edge of Daylen's waistband, fingers running lightly along the skin there.

Alistair didn't want the kiss to ever stop. He huffed a laugh at his own caution, and pressed in further, nipping at Daylen's lower lip ever so gently.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

There was no resistance when Alistair pulled him closer. Void, Daylen was well on his way to winding up in his lap. He made himself gentle the hand in Alistair's hair at the laugh, the nip, fingers stroking lightly behind his ear.

"Something funny?" he breathed against his lips, parting the kiss just long enough to look into his eyes again.

[fereldans_king]

"Just that I feel as though I should be gentle, to not scare you away...but that seems silly, when all I want to do to you is..." He paused, visibly swallowed, flushed bright red from embarrassment...and arousal. "Everything." The word was said very softly, but an intense desire colored his tone. Alistair leaned in, and pressed soft kisses to down the side of Daylen's face and his neck, before burrying his face in Daylen's shoulder, breathing shakily.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The hand on Alistair's back turned to soothing, lingering strokes down his back, shoulderblade to hip, and the hand in his hair carded with firm, strokes through the shaggy curls. "It's fine. Whatever you want. As slow as you want." He pressed his nose into Alistair's hair, breath hot over his ear. "Or, you know... not."

He continued petting for a moment and then paused, before resuming, a touch more tentative. "Alistair, have you ever been with anyone before?" Daylen's voice was tender, unworried, just a gentle query.

[fereldans_king]

Even with Daylen's gentle tone, Alistair felt himself tense slightly at the question. The answer was so simple, and yet not. No - the Chantry sisters had been very strict about purity and cleanliness and virtue. No - he and his fellow Templar recruits had fooled around in the dark of night and the corners of the barracks, but never more than fumbling hands and hot panting breaths. No - there hadn't been time or company for such things while on campaign against the Blight. No - as the first months of rebuilding and resettling the country had turned into the first years, Alistair had found his hands too full of laws to examine, towns to rebuild, and people to reassure. No - though plenty of nobles, Orlesian and Fereldan alike, had thrown their daughters (and themselves in some cases) at him, in manners both proper and licentious, he had always panicked, deferred, or simply ran away.

No - but he wanted to, oh did he want to, with lust simmering in the pit of his stomach and Daylen's gentle hands stoking the fire. Alistair finally settled for a jerky headsake and a shaky sigh.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The tension in Alistair was easy to read and Daylen kept himself warm and languid, even while he felt this sick pit of sorrow in his stomach at the answer, caresses shifting between tender to heated and back in gentle waves. He knew how passionate, how responsive, how ardent and sensual, Alistair could be. And that he'd never had anyone he trusted enough, cared enough about, to open that door was heartbreaking.

But he was here now, with Daylen, hours after meeting him, shaking for it. Some small part of Daylen whispered loathsome things about how hungry Daylen was, how desperate, and that Alistair was only trying to meet his need, that he couldn't possibly want him. That voice was an asshole that Daylen tried to ignore.

"Talk to me," he whispered against Alistair's ear. "Tell me what you are thinking about." He kissed the top of the ear and then ran the tip of his tongue along edge, tracing the shell. "What you want. We don't have to do anything but please, please love, let me hear your voice."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair's breath hitched, and a low, soft groan escaped him as Daylen's traced the edge of his ear. He'd never known ears could be that sensitive or that pleasant. He nuzzled Daylen's neck and shoulder in response, pressing quick, soft kisses to the skin after his stubble scraped against it.

"I..." Alistair cleared his throat, and tried again. "I want to touch you. I want to be touched. I want..." He let out a shaky sigh. "You, but that is spectacularly non-specific, I know."

After a quiet moment, Alistair leaned back just a little to look up into Daylen's eyes. He ducked his head, and said, with self-conscious desire, "Your hand in my hair was...nice. More than nice."